


Sick of Losing Soulmates

by MeowshmallowX



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Okay actually just a totally alternate universe, Romance, VictUuri, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-21 00:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12445884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeowshmallowX/pseuds/MeowshmallowX
Summary: As long as they have each other, the world will stay beautiful.





	Sick of Losing Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> This is written strangely (translation: badly), so it'll probably help to pay attention to the tenses. Which I'm sure I screwed up at some point, knowing me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Even though you probably won't (; ´ ♡ `)

Yuuri lets out a cry and crumples to the ground, back pressed to his bedroom door, and cups the shattered parts of himself in shaking hands. The events of the past hour play on repeat behind shut eyelids, cruel and loud and bright and grating, and he feels himself fade to gray. Feels the way his breaths stop mattering.

Because the room still smells like memories.

(Because the room still smells like Viktor.)

*

“Good morning, sleepy,” giggled Viktor. Sunlight streamed in through the window and illuminated his silvery hair, and he looked like an _angel_. “What did you dream about? Was it _me_ , Yuuri?”

Yuuri smiled softly at his boyfriend and rubbed at his sleep-crusted eyes. “Of course.”

Viktor blushed, startled, and buried his pink face in the pillow, and Yuuri felt a surge of affection jolt through him. He launched forward and pounced on the taller man, laughing, and tangled their legs together. It was so _warm. I could stay this way forever,_ thought Yuuri happily.

“Do you really love me, Yuuri?” mumbled Viktor into the pillow, voice muffled.

“Hm….” hummed Yuuri, pretending to consider the question.

“Hey!” squealed Viktor, lifting his head to frown indignantly at Yuuri. “I love _you_.”

Yuuri tilted his head. “That doesn’t mean I have to love you too….”

Viktor paused, and Yuuri saw the uncertainty glimmer in his eyes. He’d never taken his boyfriend for an insecure person—he was always the more accomplished of the two of them, the more talented, the more outgoing, the more confident.

But in love?

Oh, in love, Viktor had turned out to be _made_ of insecurities, much to Yuuri’s surprise. It didn’t matter. As long as they had each other, it would be okay. As long as they had each other, the earth would turn and the flowers would bloom and the sun would come up in the mornings.

As long as they had each other, the world would stay beautiful.

So before Viktor had the chance to say anything, Yuuri cut him off with a kiss to answer for him, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun and the warmth of his bedsheets and the warmth of their hearts.

__*

Yuuri doesn’t remember the last time the sun came out. It’s been cloudy forever. It’s been cloudy for a million years. It’s been cloudy and it’s been cloudy and it’s never, never ever ever _ever_ dared to be sunny.

A world without YuuriandViktor is a world without sunshine.

He shivers and buttons up his coat. Cold. So, so cold. Odd, that he never remembered needing a coat this time of year here, standing by the ocean. Odd, that the wind is so bitter, so freezing.

Odd, that maybe it isn’t the wind at all but the memory, the ghost of a lost love standing by the water, dancing eyes to match the sea.

Odd.

*

Viktor looked strangely nervous, and Yuuri couldn’t figure out what had him fidgeting, buttoning and unbuttoning the top button of his coat, adjusting and readjusting his watch, raking his fingers through his starlight hair.

“Viktor,” began Yuuri, concerned, “are you okay?”

“Hm?” Viktor blinked. “Oh—everything is...perfectly fine, Yuuri. Don’t worry.”

Yuuri frowned and reached forward to squeeze one of Viktor’s hands. “I’m not worrying. You asked to meet here—are you sure everything’s all right, Viktor? We’ve been sitting here for the past twenty minutes….”

Viktor blanched, swallowing, and nodded once. Twice. Three times. And reached into his coat and pulled out an _entire bouquet._

“Yuuri Katsuki,” he began, voice shaking with sincerity, “will you go out with me?”

“Will I—” Yuuri breathed, staring incredulously at the bouquet. “Will _I_ go out with…?”

“Me,” finished Viktor weakly.

Sudden suspicion wedged itself into Yuuri’s chest, and he bit his lip. “You’re not…I don’t want pity, Viktor.”

Viktor’s eyes widened.

“That’s not what I’m offering,” he replied quickly. “I like you, Yuuri. A lot. It’s…it’s so much it’s scaring me a little, and I—god, I hope you’ll say yes, because this is going to be a lot more embarrassing if—”

“Of _course_ I’ll go out with you!” Yuuri blurted out, flushing. “Oh, s-sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Really?” Viktor’s eyes sparkled. “You’re saying yes?”

Yuuri beamed at Viktor, a cool sea breeze shivering through his hair. “A million times.”

*

Everywhere is a reminder. Everywhere. Everything.

This place most of all.

It splits him in half just to think of it, but to be there, to see it, to….

It splits him in half and in half and in half.

*

Sobs shattered the air, Yuuri’s vision blurring with tears, and he hid his face in his hands, shaking. His failure still burned fresh in his mind. He’d _failed._ He’d failed failed failed failed failed—

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice. “Is someone in here?”

Yuuri’s hands flew to his mouth, and he choked on another sob. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps. He wasn’t supposed to be locked up in a storage closet, crying his eyes out like a five year old, and _what if someone saw him?_

“No,” he blurted out, wincing. “I mean….”

The sliver of light widened and then disappeared again, and Yuuri was once again enveloped in darkness. _Did the person leave?_ he wondered, hardly daring to breathe. _Maybe they’re—_

“What happened?”

Yuuri twitched, startled. “Y-you’re still here!”

The person laughed. “Yes, I’m still here.”

Yuuri sniffled and wiped at his cheeks. _What should I say?_ he thought, eyebrows knit.

But then the words were tumbling out, too fast and too soon for him to stop them, one after the other and everythingatonce.

“I was studying so hard for months and months,” he whispered. “I was, I was working so hard, but then my dog died while I was at school and the pressure and everything was too much and my diet went out the window and I—I f-failed.”

The tears were back, hot and quick and spilling down his face, beading at his chin and dripping all over his shirt, all over his clothes, all over the floor. All over. His stuttering gasps filled the thick silence.

Next to Yuuri, the person shifted. “I’m so sorry about your dog.”

“I-it’s fine,” mumbled Yuuri. “He was sick anyway.”

“Still,” they persisted. “I have a dog. She’s all I have left.”

“All you have left…?” he repeated, sniffling.

“Mm-hm. For you, it’s a matter of learning to work through pressure. For me…it’s a little more complicated.” The person huffed out a bitter laugh. “At least you’ve still got a home to go back to, yes?”

“U-um,” Yuuri sniffled, wiping frantically at his eyes behind his glasses, “yeah….”

The person let out a shaky sigh.

“I don’t. Not anymore.” They paused for a moment. “Though I’m glad you do.”

“Oh.” Yuuri wrapped his arms around himself. “What…?”

“What happened?” guessed the person. Another bitter chuckle. “I’m gay.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Your parents kicked you out?”

“No,” they murmured, “but they might as well have. So I packed up my things, and...here I am. In Japan.”

Yuuri swallowed. “O-oh.”

“It’s warmer than Russia,” the person noted. There was a brief silence. “I’m Viktor—Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Yuuri Katsuki,” responded Yuuri hesitantly.

*

And Yuuri, Yuuri is back, he’s back here, back in his room, back in the place that smells like memories, like so many memories piled on shifting memories, a kaleidoscope of memories. And Yuuri, Yuuri is crying, sobbing, screaming.

Because Viktor is gone. Gone. _Gone._

And it doesn’t matter how. And Yuuri can’t remember how. He can remember so many hows and maybe none of them are the right how. He can remember when the fighting started, when the giggles turned into insults, when the little moments stopped meaning the universe and started being just little. He can remember shared laughter and singing and then spinning, spinning out of control, off the road. He can remember nothing at all.

And maybe it was all of that. Maybe it was a fight, or maybe it was a million fights, or maybe it was none at all and Viktor is farther gone than a call and an apology.

Or maybe none of it ever happened.

And Yuuri is losing his mind in a haze of pain. And he is built up of a million, a billion, a trillion glass maybes, and he is cracking, breaking, shattering.

He is cracked, broken, shattered.

And alone.

**Author's Note:**

> [ What the hell would I be without you? ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qGFAkyfjDU)
> 
> ***
> 
> I wrote this feeling more or less the way Yuuri is here, so I...spewed words and it sort of helped. So I'm sorry for this—I'm sure it's confusing unless you live in my head. Not to mention _bad_ , haha.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so, so much for reading! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡


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